


La Suma de Nuestras Diferencias

by LitsyKalyptica



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Middle School, POV First Person, Parent Death, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LitsyKalyptica/pseuds/LitsyKalyptica
Summary: Alex starts eighth grade in a new town and new school, and the only thing he has to look forward to is the anonymity of it, and being left alone to do his work. But his ambition and intellect catch the attention of his teachers, and he is contracted to tutor a charming but difficult classmate.





	1. Alexander's Disclaimer

This is not my story. 

 

My story, like all great stories, will ripen after about half a century of successful career decisions and a well-toned public persona, one which hints at a more complex personal life but never allowing the spectator to dive too deeply. That story will be written down one day. 

 

But today, I return to this past August, first day of eighth grade. 

 

That’s where it all began.


	2. Chapter 2

Before I could really adjust to having a new family, suddenly I was being thrust into a new house and new town and new school. Turned out George had been elected to office right in time to get me away from the only city I’d ever called home. So down we moved to Alexandria. I laid claim to a high bedroom in the corner of the stately new house, and immediately locked myself away inside. 

Those first few days were spent alone but not lonely. I set up everything myself so that it could be arranged the way I liked it. I taught myself how to put a desk and bookshelf together. Occasionally George or Martha or Laf would come knocking, asking if I was okay or if I wanted to come out. My silence must’ve convinced them I spent those days sleeping.

I’d been living with the Washingtons for just under a year by then. 

George, I decided was a stern man with wisdom to spare, but who I had no interest in knowing. I could compare him to a teacher whom you respect but otherwise have very little interest in, and wouldn’t miss after the school year was over.

Martha was kind and more approachable, but could be overbearing. She wore her status of new-mother-to-teens on her sleeve, and her eagerness to do well despite her inexperience was somewhat endearing but also embarrassing.

Laf was my new brother, and I probably liked him best out of the three, but we weren’t close. He was a solid enough replacement for the brother from a life I left behind in New York, but it was kind of like toaster replaced: you get a new one because you have to, but don’t think you’d miss it if you didn’t have it. I would’ve been just as happy if he were just someone to have awkward small talk with on the bus. Just an acquaintance; I didn’t need friends.

My therapist calls me socially maladjusted.

It felt like by the time I came out, it was to head off to my first day in the new school. I didn’t remember it being so hot when we arrived.

Martha drove us that morning. Laf, a year younger than me, was barely old enough to ride in the front seat, but I’d want the backseat to myself for reading, and Martha would want someone to talk to. Laf didn’t mind.

The architecture of the main building was impressive but too gray to not look like a prison. We were drop off out front amid a gaggle of our new peers. I forced the briefest of polite smiles and squeezed past them. Laf tagged along, nearly holding onto the back of my shirt. He was excited for the new year to begin; I was just waiting for it to end.


	3. Chapter 3

My new schedule was standard, not especially interesting, and hopefully within a few weeks I would impress my teachers enough to bump me up to more advanced courses. That life I left behind? Well, it didn’t allow much time for studying, but I’d more than caught up once I didn’t have to worry about where my next meal was coming from.

The first few days were just the teachers introducing themselves to us and trying to help us get to no one another. As someone with no interest in getting to know anyone, I zoned out during these activities, and honestly couldn’t recall any of that first week if someone put a gun to my head.

In the second week, the only way to make the time pass was to throw myself into the work. That was easy enough; I was a meticulous note-taker and a shameless hand-raiser. My desire to learn was only challenged by my desire to prove myself to my peers and instructors, and by third period I believe I was regarded as well-respected (if not well-liked) by my classmates.

If nothing else, me raising my hand meant they didn’t have to.

Spanish 2 was only one period away from lunch break, and I didn’t need to take notes on my first language. I wrote in my book regardless, just to keep myself busy, though I often strayed from the subject at hand. I smiled to myself; by the end of the week I’d be as much of a gunner in here as in any of my other classes, but for now I’d let everyone else have a chance to shine.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Psst.”

I ignored them in favor of doodling a squiggle on the corner of my page.

“Psst!”

I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. To turn around would be to devote time to this person I didn’t know nor cared to know. And that could result in all sorts of unwanted entanglements—

“PSST!”

“What!” I almost snapped, spinning around in my seat so quickly I pulled a muscle in my side. This had better be good.

The boy behind me was grinning brightly and pointing out the window. “There’s a huge dog out there. Look!”

I almost didn’t. That this had been played off like an urgent matter seemed ludicrous to me, and I didn’t want to dignify his observation by joining in the little game.

But the boy wasn’t even looking at me anymore. He must’ve been looking at that dog, staring out the window with an open-mouth grin on his dark and friendly face.

Finally, what I would call curiosity got a hold of me, and I turned in my seat to look out the window. And, indeed, there was a massive dog out on the lawn outside, a hulking mastiff stalking the school grounds. I was sniffing at the ground, as if looking for something. I only stopped watching when he turned off behind a row of bushes.

“Wow.”

“Right?”

I turned, briefly, back to him, and smiled the smallest smile before returning to my notebook.

* * *

One thing I learned about private schools was that they apparently specialized in maximizing comfort with huge losses to efficiency. My new school was small enough that three years of students could all have lunch at the same time, and yet the total area for eating said lunch was enough for more than enough elbow room.

So many tables, and nowhere to sit. Except with Laf, whom I was all but obligated to eat with.

We wandered for a bit with our bagged lunches, scoping out empty seats at tables.

“Hey! Yo!”

And with my attention caught, I noticed one familiar face in a sea of students.

The same boy from my Spanish class. He was waving us over with a smile that seemed to never leave his face. He seemed to only be sitting with one other boy. I considered whether I wanted to attach myself to anyone so early on, but Laf was already running ahead of me to the table. I sighed and, realizing I had little other choice, decided to join them.

“So, you’re new here, right?” The boy from Spanish decided to kick off a conversation.

“Yes, we are,” Laf answered for us.

“Well, we’ll have to show you around.” He threw an arm around the skinnier boy drowning in a hoodie that must’ve been breaking the school dress code. The second boy regarded us with something between a blank and hostile gaze. I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“That’d be great! Alex and I could use a couple of friends.”

“Ah, well, if we’re gonna be friends we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Herc, and this is John.” He tightened his one-armed hold on the other boy before letting go. “What about you?”

“My name is—… Well, you can call me Laf.” His full name was too long to lead off with and, in my opinion, irrelevant given that the Washingtons had adopted him.

“That’s a cool name. Laf.” Herc turned to me. “What about you?”

I blinked and briefly averted my gaze. “Alexander.”

“Cool name, too. Speaking of which, what brings you two to Alexandria?”

We explained, briefly, how our new father had been elected to congress, and we needed to be a little closer to the capitol. I left out how we’d both only recently been adopted; Laf at least looked enough like the Washingtons that someone could believe he was their bio son (well, if it wasn’t for the accent. So he just had to not talk.) The dissimilarity between myself and the rest of the new family was more than skin-deep.

“Oh, well, don’t worry, you’re not the first. Both our parents are in the same position. Hell, I was new here just two years ago! I didn’t have any trouble making friends. I don’t think you will, either.”

Herc’s words were well-meaning but, had he known me better, he’d know how wrong he was.

John said nothing, eating a yogurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments = motivation!


End file.
